


Body Snatchers

by hrhrionastar, meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Gen, Post Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-14
Updated: 2011-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-23 17:52:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrhrionastar/pseuds/hrhrionastar, https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-series. When Dennee is taken prisoner by the magic-hating Blood of the Fold, she finds some unexpected allies in the dungeon with her. The Blood of the Fold are planning to kill them all but Dennee is certain Kahlan will come to her rescue – her companions, however, have other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body Snatchers

  


Dennee had her eyes closed. It was hard to keep track of time in the dungeon. Torches burned all the time in the stone corridors outside the heavy iron door of the prison. The same unpalatable plates of thin soup with stale bread were served twice each day along with warm water, and she tried to mark time by this.

She kept her back to the wall, the one opposite the door, knees tucked under her chin, hands clasped around her knees. The hated Rada'Han dug into her skin when she let her head loll onto her shoulder, making it hard to sleep at all.

There came the sound of footsteps in the corridor and her eyes flew open. She rose to her feet, ignoring her protesting muscles; they were stiff with disuse, and she could do little to defend herself or the others, but she knew their captors were afraid of her most of all, ‘demon soul-stealing witch' that she was, and she never missed an opportunity to intimidate them.

To her left, Nicci was curled up with her knees folded demurely under her, looking only mildly dishevelled and more bored than anything else. Like a noble lady left waiting too long for her horse to brought around to the palace gate, rather than a prisoner awaiting the Creator only knew what fate. She noted Dennee's movement and then shifted her attention to the door, hands folded primly in her lap. She too, wore a Rada'Han – she'd bitten one of the guards as they'd fastened it around her neck, and she bore a bruise on one cheek in payment for her insolence.

To Dennee's right, Darken was also on alert. No Rada'Han for the once proud Lord of D'Hara. The body he now inhabited might have been an exact replica of his own lost one, but it lacked Rahl blood and thus Rahl magic. His hands were chained, and Dennee knew he'd gathered up the chains between his hands, awaiting any opportunity to use his own bonds as a weapon. So far, no such opportunity had presented itself.

Every time the guards approached at a time when it wasn't likely to be for such mundane reasons as providing food or emptying the single bucket provided for hygiene purposes, Dennee wondered if they were coming to take her or one of the others away for execution.

The door creaked open and a pike was shoved through the doorway and waved around viciously. When the guard was sure he wasn't about to be rushed by the prisoners, the pike was withdrawn and someone was flung forward. He stumbled, almost falling onto Dennee. She reached out and steadied the newest arrival. The door clanged shut.

"Oh, lovely," Nicci drawled. "More company. Just what we needed."

"Are you all right?" Dennee asked. The man lifted his head and nodded miserably. His face was tear stained and muddy, and there was a cut near one eyebrow.

"Where am I? Who are these people? They're mad! Kept going on about me being a body snatcher." He rubbed one hand across his face, only smearing the dirt around further. "I've never took a corpse, never, do I look like a wizard? Let alone a wizard who raises the dead."

"You look like a peasant in stolen soldier's clothing," Nicci said. "That jacket didn't fit even before someone tore through it with a sword."

Darken stood. "Walter," he said. "Well, that rather does confirm my suspicions."

Walter noticed Darken for the first time, whimpered, and tried to put Dennee between them. In doing so, he almost tripped over Nicci, who hissed like a cat, and got to her feet.

"You know him?" Dennee asked.

Darken nodded and gestured to himself. "He gave me this body."

Dennee felt a chill. "Body snatchers," she said, echoing Walter's ramblings. "They think we all stole our bodies."

"They know we did," Nicci said, brushing straw from her once-fine cloak.

"Walter volunteered," Darken said.

Walter whimpered again. "You hardly gave me a choice. And I didn't steal this body. It was already dead."

Nicci shrugged. "The sister who gave her life to resurrect me did so willingly. Dennee?"

Guilt made Dennee's cheeks flush red. "My resurrection was not of my choosing, nor hers. If I could give Lucinda back her life, I would. But after Madame Denna sent me to kill the Mord’Sith who murdered me, and Kahlan convinced me there was nothing to be gained by serving Madame Denna’s purposes, Kahlan and the Mord’Sith brought back the Seeker’s body to the wizard I Confessed. There was only enough elixir left to revive him, and I vowed not to waste this second life, however unwillingly I began it."

This summary, Dennee noted, made Darken frown, while Walter looked on in puzzlement severe enough to alleviate some of his terror.

"Hmm," Nicci said thoughtfully. "I wonder if they’re planning to recreate that elixir, and…"

"Exorcise us," Darken completed the thought.

Most people, Dennee considered, would have had the decency to put an exclamation mark on the end of a statement like that.

Not that she had lied about being willing to lay her borrowed life down for Lucinda in a heartbeat, but she doubted the other woman would care to return to the Land of the Living in a dungeon, imprisoned by, and quite possibly with, homicidal maniacs.

Besides, Dennee had a network of relationships, people who depended on her—Lucinda’s son Edmund, Renn whom she had adopted, Kahlan, and of course the Midlands themselves.

Thoughts of her responsibilities nagged at her, reminding her there was more than one reason to get out of this dungeon as quickly as possible. But while her sister remained free, it was surely only a matter of time until Dennee would be reunited with her loved ones.

"It doesn’t matter," she said in an attempt to reassure herself as much as her companions, "Kahlan will rescue us."

Darken and Nicci exchanged a look. "If she can drag herself away from my brother long enough to notice your absence,” Darken said. "How did you end up here, anyway?"

“Why is it bad if these people want to give us some exercise?" Walter asked. "I mean, it can’t hurt to stay in shape. And here I thought they wanted to kill us!"

Darken quelled him with one sardonically raised eyebrow. Nicci rolled her eyes, turning away and sinking back to the floor, now that the excitement of Walter’s arrival was past. She folded her legs in a pretzel shape that looked both complex and uncomfortable, smoothed her skirt over her knees, and waited politely for Dennee to explain her capture.

Dennee took a breath, embarrassed. But neither lying nor evasion would serve any useful purpose. "I was walking in the courtyard of the Confessor’s Palace in Aydindril—I may not have been looking where I was going—and someone jumped me. They had the Rada’Han around my neck before I could get a hand free, and I didn't manage to call out before they knocked me unconscious, either." Dennee rubbed her forehead in remembered pain, sure there was a bruise. "I woke up here."

"So the Mother Confessor and the Seeker are just going to think you vanished into thin air!" Walter exclaimed.

Darken rubbed his lips thoughtfully. "The courtyard, you say? What about the guards? You may have a spy on your hands."

Dennee sighed. He was right, of course. This likely meant the Blood of the Fold had a spy in Aydindril. It had to be them—they had been holding rallies during which they loudly denounced the Mother Confessor, saying she did the Keeper’s work; Dennee had dismissed their protests as the ravings of madmen, not really a threat. It appeared that she had underestimated them, and that they had stepped up their efforts to rid the Midlands of the last bastion of law and order.

But would Kahlan and Richard realize this in time to rescue Dennee and the others from whatever dark ritual their captors planned?

"Confessors have a certain advantage with internal investigations," Nicci commented, waving a hand vaguely held in the shape of a claw.

Dennee winced. "I’m not Confessing everyone just to find one spy!" she said hotly.

"If there is only one," Darken murmured. Dennee was horrified anew at this possibility.

Nicci was looking politely bewildered. "Why would you need to go to all that tedious trouble?" she asked. "Couldn’t you just ask them? 'Are you a spy for my enemies? No? Liar!' And _then_ with the tiny irises and the spontaneous wind."

Dennee was about to protest that it wasn’t that simple, really, but then she imagined vetting every visitor to Aydindril by asking this simple question. It would be a lot of work, and there was still some possibility of missing the one actual spy, since Dennee would not be surprised if it turned out to be the Mord’Sith—Kahlan’s trust in the woman still mystified her—in which case no Confessor would be able to tell…but otherwise, it sounded surprisingly logical. Dennee looked at Nicci with new respect.

"Isn’t the Listener still with you?” Darken asked. "You seem to have neglected several sources of information. Or is it the Mother Confessor who…underestimates our latest threat?"

"How can you sound so calm?" Walter demanded. Dennee saw he was edging toward hysteria again, and put a comforting hand on his arm. "'Latest threat'? This may be just another week for you people, but _I_ don’t get kidnapped all the time! Except for when you made me your body double, and then when the Seeker and the Mother Confessor helped you steal my body…"

Walter paused, looking a little confused; Dennee saw Darken and Nicci exchange an ironic look. She glared at Darken; as a leader, and therefore a role model, he ought to be above laughing at poor Walter’s hysterics.

Darken gestured lazily with one hand, nonchalant. "Look on the bright side; if our captors kill you, you’ll never be kidnapped again."

"I’m not ready to die!" Walter gasped. "I’ve only just started having a life of my own! Now that I don’t look like you, people don’t hate me on sight! I thought I was done with being almost killed by random strangers because of you!"

Dennee couldn’t resist a quick glance at Darken, to see how he received this; he was looking more saturnine by the minute. Nicci’s eyes twinkled with amusement, also watching Darken.

"How did they capture you, Walter?" Dennee asked, trying to distract him.

"It was a simple mistake. How was I supposed to know the priest who led me down a dark alley was up to no good?" Walter asked. "He seemed so nice! He even told me I had an honest face."

Nicci snorted. "You might have used the brains the Creator gave you," she suggested sardonically.

"It's not his fault," Darken explained, sounding almost charitable. Then he added maliciously, “Somehow She missed him.”

"Well—well—" Walter’s voice wobbled, and Dennee impulsively gave him a hug, frowning at Darken and Nicci over his shoulder. She patted his back sympathetically, the same soothing gesture she used with Edmund whenever he dissolved into tears post-tantrum. Dennee supposed their sarcasm was a front to hide their true feelings—they must be as worried about the Blood of the Fold’s nefarious plans as she was—but it seemed so unfair for them to be ganging up on poor Walter.

"And how did you two end up in this dungeon?" Dennee asked sharply. "The greatest tyrant the world has ever seen and the most powerful sorceress in the history of time?" By some sort of unspoken agreement, they'd not discussed the details of their capture before. In fact they'd spoken little, each brooding in their own corner of the dungeon cell.

Darken and Nicci looked…uncomfortable.

Dennee released Walter and crossed her arms, one foot tapping impatiently as she stared at the suddenly silent couple. This stance usually sent Renn into a panic, hurrying to confess his crimes, eat his vegetables, or tidy his rooms, lest punishment follow the stare. It was also the one thing guaranteed to send Edmund to bed on time. "I'm waiting," she said, wondering if she was pushing her luck – these were powerful, sociopathic people and not young boys she could send to bed without supper.

Darken glanced at Nicci. Dennee knew that look. She and Kahlan used to give each other such glances when their father had been questioning them harshly. It was part 'you first' and part 'what should we do?'

Nicci straightened up to her full height, tossing her tangled hair about her shoulders, and mustered up what dignity she could under the circumstances.

"After I escaped from Darken Rahl, I…considered seeking out Richard," Nicci said carefully.

Dennee saw Darken raise his eyebrows, and wondered if he had heard the same uncertainty in Nicci's voice as she had. It sounded like the sorceress had found herself at loose ends, now that Richard and Kahlan had saved the world and were now, in theory at least, engaged in reordering it to their satisfaction. She wasn't the only one.

"I was travelling when rumour reached me of a powerful magical artefact," Nicci went on. She glanced at Darken under lowered lashes before naming what she had been seeking. "The Rada'Jin."

Darken's breath hissed in comprehension, but Dennee remained bewildered, and Walter, leaning against the wall with his eyes shut, appeared to have given up completely on following the conversation.

"Rada'Jin?" Dennee asked. "Is it similar to a Rada'Han?"

"A Rada'Han controls and suppresses magical power," Darken said smoothly, without any inflection. It was almost eerie, to see the sarcasm having left him entirely. "A Rada'Jin controls and suppresses free will."

Now it was Dennee's turn for comprehension—and fear. Such power was dangerous in the wrong hands, and she did not trust either Nicci or Darken with it. But there had to be more to the story.

"And then?" she prompted. "I presume you didn't find it."

Nicci shook her head, her hair falling in thick golden waves over her shoulders. Dennee remembered when she'd had hair like that, and was surprised at the faint whisper of envy and regret that went through her. Of all the things she'd lost, her hair was surely the least important.

"I followed the trail to a wizard of the third order in Syrene," Nicci said. "We had a drink in the local tavern, he talked around the subject, we agreed to meet again when he could gather more information. The next day I was dragged out of the village square to this place. I couldn't use my Han, and that's when I realized the wizard dosed my wine with amla oil."

Amla oil suppressed magic, though not as reliably as a Rada'Han. It was easier to get, though, and almost tasteless. It was also poisonous in large quantities, which was why Dennee had never seriously considered it as a method of suppressing her own Confessor powers.

Nicci didn't seem worried about the amla oil poisoning her, though; Dennee wondered if she were really so carefree as she seemed.

There was a faint clinking of chains as Darken held out his hands to Nicci, twining their fingers together in a rare moment of tenderness and sympathy. She submitted to the touch, but it was impossible to tell whether she appreciated it.

Dennee sighed, not liking the implications of this. "So either the Rada'Jin was a red herring to lure you into the clutches of the Blood of the Fold," she said, "or else they have some idea where it is…and they must mean to use it."

Nicci and Darken both looked at her, and Dennee saw their awareness of the war she and Kahlan wanted to deny was coming. If the Blood of the Fold had a way to control the Mother Confessor…

"Well, that's good, right?" Walter asked. "Maybe this way they won't kill us." In the face of his companions' shocked stares, he elaborated. "I'd rather have my life than my free will."

Nicci made a disparaging noise, dismissing Walter from her attention with a muttered, "Fool."

"They're not going to kill us," Darken said patiently. "Because we're going to get out of here."

"How?" Dennee asked. She was ready to try anything by this point—she was frantic to get back to Renn and Edmund, and she had to warn Kahlan.

"Something will turn up," Darken said. "It always does. And it usually involves my dear brother."

Dennee blinked a few times, trying to process this. "That's your grand plan? Wait for Richard to show up?"

"It's no better than yours, which seems to rely on Kahlan coming to your rescue," he said. "Where Kahlan is, Richard will not be far behind – assuming there isn't a cow that needs milking or an old woman who needs help crossing a river."

Dennee resolutely did not laugh at the mental images this conjured up. She couldn't fault Richard's devotion to every aspect of civic duty, but even she had to agree with the Mord'Sith, Cara, that sometimes the Seeker had more important business to attend to than rescuing a kitten from a tree.

"My brother is prophesied to kill me," Darken went on, "and while I have died several times, none of them have been at his hands. Prophecy cannot be easily thwarted. Whether he himself rescues us, or some divine intervention occurs, I cannot die here."

Did he really believe that, Dennee wondered – and could it be true? And even if it were, it guaranteed his safety, but not her own, nor Nicci's, nor the unfortunate Walter's.

"Besides, where my brother goes, Cara goes," Darken said, and there was something in his voice—pride?—at the mention of her name. "If anyone can rescue us, it is Mistress Cara."

Nicci made a small noise of disgust, making Darken turn his attention to her.

"Mord'Sith are many," Nicci offered, unaffected by Darken's glower. "There is only one Seeker. If anyone can rescue us, it shall be him."

Dennee was about to protest that Kahlan, trained from birth, unlike the Seeker, and with her own mind, unlike the brainwashed Mord'Sith, was their best hope of rescue. At the last moment she managed to contain herself. Arguing over who was the best choice to rescue them was futile and childish. And absolutely not helping.

"It's all right for you," Walter whined. "Mika will miss me, and Malray will look for me, but they're not heroes like Richard Cypher."

"Hush," Dennee said sharply. She regretted her tone as Walter cowered away from her, the one person who had shown him any compassion. Yet her attention had been caught by the distant sound of people shouting, the clang of metal against metal.

Could it be? She hardly dared hope that rescue was imminent. Darken and Nicci had heard it too, she saw, for they casually but unmistakably shifted their positions into a more defensive stance. The noises became more obvious, and drew closer until Walter too became aware of them and of the growing tension in the cell.

The door was flung open. The Mord'Sith, Cara, agiels in both hands, stood on the threshold, a wicked smile on her lips. She tossed her blonde hair out of her eyes and said, "I've come to rescue you."

"About time," Darken said. Cara pointedly ignored him.

"Are you hurt?" Cara asked Dennee.

"No. I'm fine." Dennee put aside any distrust for the Mord'Sith. Now was clearly not the time for her grudge, and she doubted Cara could be both the spy for the Blood of the Fold and her rescuer from them. If it had been Darken or Nicci, such complex machinations might seem more plausible, but Mord'Sith loyalty was far more straightforward than that.

"Then let's go." Cara's gaze swept the cell, noting the identities of Dennee's companions. "All of you," she said at last, a touch of disdain in her voice. Dennee frowned; Walter, at least, didn't deserve the Mord'Sith's contempt.

The four prisoners followed Cara through the narrow passage, Nicci daintily lifting her skirts to step over the fallen bodies they passed on the way.

Dennee raised one hand to shield her eyes as they stepped into the sunlight. When she could see again, she saw the devastation her rescuers had wrought.

Bodies were everywhere, and the main building looked to be a charred ruin. Dennee was thankful their prison had been underground and relatively out of the way, and wondered whether it had been Richard's impetuosity or Zedd's magic that had made them burn the place down. Either way, things had clearly gotten out of hand.

"Dennee," Kahlan called, dashing over. She hugged Dennee tightly, and it was only then that Dennee felt she was safe.

"Rahl," growled Richard, sheathing the Sword of Truth. "What are you doing here?"

"I was a prisoner," Darken said, affecting his best hurt tone. "These people were under the impression I had stolen this body."

Kahlan took a sharp breath. "Then our contact was right. The Blood of the Fold are getting bolder every day. Anyone with magic or who has been altered by magic is in danger."

By this point, Dennee had realized there was someone missing. "Where's Zedd?" she asked, with a frown. And why were both Richard and Kahlan here? Who was minding Aydindril in the Mother Confessor's absence?

"Home," Kahlan replied. "He's looking after the children."

Renn was old enough to be left to his own devices for a brief time; Edmund was not. Dennee realized she had thought only of Kahlan coming to rescue her, and not of who would care for her sons, or how worried they must be…

She raised guilty eyes to Kahlan's face, and thought of an objection that had nothing to do with her own failings. "You know how Zedd hates to be bothered with the children," she said, a little crossly. "And I know of no reason why he should have to be! Kahlan—"

Renn had a good understanding with Zedd, but the Wizard was bored by very young children, and Edmund needed more attention than Zedd would give—and servants weren't the same as one of the family.

Of course, Kahlan could have left Cara to babysit Dennee's sons, so there was still something to be thankful for.

"As affecting as this reunion is," Nicci drawled, "we do have other concerns." She tapped her Rada'Han, and it rang faintly.

Kahlan scowled. "What makes you think you deserve your freedom?"

Dennee understood Kahlan's fears, but couldn't agree with her about this. Nicci had proven her wit, if not her reliability, in the dungeon; and in the coming war Kahlan and Dennee would need all the help they could get.

It was Cara who put a temporary end to the discussion, saying curtly, "But you will not deny your sister hers."

Conscience-stricken, Kahlan turned at once to the task of finding the key to Dennee's Rada'Han, aided by Richard and Cara.

Darken, Dennee saw, had already found the key to his own chains, and was engaged in dexterously unlocking them.

A search of the bodies turned up the keys to the Rada'Hans. Richard freed Dennee, who rubbed at her neck in relief, but he hesitated when face to face with Nicci.

She raised her eyebrows at him in a pretence of cool unconcern, but Dennee felt she'd gotten to know the sorceress a little during their incarceration, and she recognized the helpless anger Nicci felt at being so dependent on Richard.

"Will you swear an oath of fealty to me?" Richard asked.

"Would you trust her word?" Kahlan scoffed, before Nicci could answer.

Richard seemed locked in an agony of indecision; Dennee sighed. Only now that she was safe with Kahlan did she allow herself to feel the exhaustion that had plagued her in the dungeon.

"She can't use her Han against us at the moment," Dennee said wearily. "Someone gave her amla oil."

Nicci glowered at Dennee, but Richard looked concerned. He unlocked the Rada'Han apparently without a second thought, and said, "We'll have to take you with us. Zedd can see if the amla oil has had any long term effects."

At this, both Cara and Kahlan rolled their eyes.

Dennee turned away, impatient with Kahlan's mistrust of Nicci, and with Cara in general. Her eyes fell on Walter, who was scuffing his boots in the dirt, radiating both nervousness and dejection. Poor Walter; not needing to be unchained nor freed from a Rada'Han, and with no one to greet him so warmly, had quickly been forgotten about.

"Walter," she called softly and he lifted his eyes to meet her gaze.

"I need to find Malray," Walter said.

"We'll help you find him," Kahlan promised, finally taking notice of him. "You shouldn’t be alone. None of us should be. Not while the Blood of the Fold are a threat."

Dennee turned to ask Darken about his plans, but he was already halfway to the gates of the Blood of the Fold's ruined headquarters.

"Let him go," Richard said sullenly, seeing her indecision. "If he wants to risk wandering the Midlands alone, let him."

Dennee ran after Darken, however, catching up to him easily. He looked at her with surprise.

"You're really going out there alone?" she asked incredulously.

"Why? What do you care?" Darken asked.

Dennee shrugged. "You're family," she admitted. Kahlan was her sister, and Richard was his brother. She had never imagined she would consider Darken Rahl one of the family, but there was no denying the connection. "And you're as much a victim here as I am. We ought to stay together."

"I doubt Kahlan agrees," Darken said.

"You're not safe," she protested. "How did you get captured, anyway?"

He hesitated just a moment. "That secret, Dennee, I shall take to my final grave."

It must have been something highly embarrassing for him to refuse to admit it, Dennee thought. She was instantly determined to find it out somehow, and found herself wondering if she could recruit Nicci for the task.

"I suppose it doesn't matter," Dennee said, temporarily putting aside her curiosity. "Only that it could happen again. Look, you were talking about prophecy – but you'd already heard the commotion, hadn't you?"

He held her gaze. "You ask too many questions."

"It's my job as a Confessor," she retorted. "As is protecting those who need it. While it must hurt your pride to admit it, you need the protection our greater numbers can offer. Come with us, use your knowledge and experience to help us. Just until we defeat the Blood of the Fold."

Darken looked down at Dennee, and suddenly smiled. It was warmer than his habitual smirk, and Dennee was shocked by how completely it transformed his face.

"In the face of such charming entreaties, how can I refuse?" Darken said. "Besides," he added, with a wicked twinkle in his eyes, "you will all certainly need my help."

Dennee laughed, and Darken offered her his arm as they started back to the rest of the group. Surprised, as she always was by anyone but Richard being willing to touch a Confessor unnecessarily, Dennee took it.

Richard, Kahlan, and Cara were all looking out of sorts now, but Dennee felt cheerful for the first time in days. She and the others were free, and they were going home. Together, they could surely defeat the Blood of the Fold, now that they knew what they were up against.

Best of all, they had struck a blow against the Blood of the Fold with the destruction of this camp, and had gained valuable allies in the fight. Dennee had surely made a firm friend of Walter – and by extension, Malray, a man with a quick mind and fair with a sword. They needed people like him, people who could help them gather intelligence.

Nicci – well, she hadn't sworn the oath to Richard, but she had admitted to searching him out when she'd been captured, and she had plenty of reason to align with him against the Blood of the Fold. She'd be loyal, for now, and if her magical powers were unharmed, extremely valuable.

Darken, too, could be trusted so long as he was vulnerable against this new enemy. She hadn't been lying when she had told him they could use his skills in this fight. His knowledge, and his own considerable skill with a sword—he'd honed Walter's body to the peak of physical perfection, she realised, her fingers testing the firm muscle of his arm. For no discernible reason, she found herself remembering that Darken's soul was immune to Confession.

"What are you thinking about so intently?" Darken asked, and Dennee found he was watching her while they walked.

She gave him a smile. "That we will take the fight to them now, and that the Blood of the Flood will never know what hit them."


End file.
